Among several productions this coming season, the Seattle playwright will premiere Mrs. Loman Is Leaving at ACT in her hometown (Oct. 12-27); the play was first featured as part of ACT’s inaugural New Works Northwest Festival.
What’s the elevator pitch for Mrs. Loman Is Leaving?
It’s opening night of Death of a Salesman at the Teacup Theatre in the West Village. Before the curtain goes up, one of the actors suffers a break with reality, hallucinating and talking to a dead relative…and it’s not the guy playing Willy.
Who is the play’s ideal audience?
People who love theatre. People who question theatre.
What’s the most challenging aspect of creating a backstage comedy?
Making sure that the story stands on its own and can be appreciated, whether or not the audience has recently seen or read Death of a Salesman.
Were there any particular memories you drew on for the play?
Many moments: studying Death of a Salesman in school and trying to wrap my head around professors making a case for Willy being a tragic hero. And, when I was acting, trying to make sense of notes that were given regarding intractable female characters (“Let’s see if we can’t soften her up a bit”) and intractable male characters (“He’s complicated”).
How has working on this play changed you see or engage with Death of a Salesman?
I think it’s only deepened my longstanding curiosity about the popularity of the play. What is it about this particular man’s story that keeps theatres returning to it, decade after decade? All My Sons is another Miller play where the character of Joe Keller is a complex individual with a plight that absolutely rips your heart out. At the end of the play, when Joe is read the letter and realizes that his “business as usual” decision was the trigger for his son’s demise, he is no longer able to lie to himself and others by shifting the blame. He finally gets it. He understands that he is responsible for his actions, his priorities.
On the other hand, Willy Loman’s self-knowledge regarding his actions and priorities is very limited. There’s no big “aha” moment for Willy. No thunderclap of enlightenment—something I always long for every time I see the play. All My Sons is still produced, but not with the same regularity as Death of a Salesman. I often wonder why.
What’s a recent moment that reminded you why you chose to do theatre?
Watching Fat Ham at the Seattle Rep and being so totally transported that my popcorn brain actually stopped popping for those 90 minutes.
What are you reading?
Diary of a Provincial Lady by E.M. Delafield.
What music are you listening to?
I was just listening to Johnny Hartman.
Shoot your shot: What artist or company are you dreaming of working with, or what show are you dreaming of working on?
I wish I could work with Christopher Evan Welch again. He was hilarious, talented, and naughty. He passed away in 2013, and I still read/write/see plays and think, “Chris would gobble up this role like nobody’s business.” I’d love to work with Doug Hughes again. He creates a rehearsal room that is seriously creative, with a healthy dollop of lunacy.
If you could change one thing about the theatre, what would it be?
It would be heavenly to see female playwrights over 50 represented in theatrical seasons all over the country. God knows, women buy a ton of tickets.
